Challenger
by cerebel
Summary: Starfleet has once again completed the crew assignments for the year, but they find themselves with 13 extra people. And suddenly they have to find something for them to do.
1. Artemis

Chapter 1: Artemis  
  
Lieutenant Arthura Knapp, otherwise known as Artemis, collapsed against the wall of her quarters. This was getting intolerable. Everywhere she went, the crewmen would whisper. The incident had been nearly a month ago. Honestly.  
Well, screw them.  
If they thought that blowing up seven shuttles wasn't acceptable cost for saving a group of ten away team members, then they could just keep on whispering.  
A slight sound from her computer made her lift her head. She walked over and activated the message saved on it. Apparently it wasn't a visual message, but a written one.  
  
To: Lieutenant Arthura Knapp Current Assignment: USS Manta Ray NCC-147879  
  
Your request for a transfer has been duly noted, and the duty rosters have been changed accordingly. You have received a promotion to Lieutenant Commander, and are now in command of the USS Challenger. Please report to Starbase 24 in three weeks time for the appropriate transfer.  
  
-Starfleet Command  
  
Whoa. Command? Why the heck would they put her in command after her perceived screw-up? She'd blown up a ship's worth of shuttles, for god's sake. She wasn't ready for command.  
It figured that they only promoted her to lieutenant commander, though. It was the minimum rank possible to command a starship.  
Oh well. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she took another glance at the instructions, and headed up to tell her captain about the transfer.  
Three weeks earlier, there had been an emergency during graveyard shift, when she was the chief tactical officer. The XO and graveyard Chief Engineer were both knocked out in weapons fire from an unknown alien ship, and the bridge was cut off from the others in the chain of command. So Artemis had taken the chair.  
She'd ordered an insane tactic where they'd used shuttles remotely piloted to attack the alien ship while pretending that the Ray had weapons failure. Then they'd gotten to the spot on the other ship where the shields were thinnest and disabled it before it knew what happening. It had been a brilliant tactic, and there were no fatalities aboard the ship-just a few exceedingly serious injuries. But secretly, since she had acted rather strangely while commanding the ship, quite a few of the crew members thought she wasn't right in the head.  
Screw them.  
Artemis pressed the button to ring the captain's ready room.  
"Come in," came the Captain's voice.  
She entered, holding a disc copy of the orders in front of her like a defensive shield. "Sir, the transfer came through."  
She really hoped that she imagined the defeated look in his eyes. "Let me see." He plugged it into his computer and looked over the orders for what seemed like a very long time. Then he looked back up at her, and leaned back in his chair. "I still don't know why you requested a transfer, Lieutenant."  
"The ship wasn't agreeing with me, sir," she replied. It was a little short, granted, but it was all she could say.  
"Right." He glanced back at the orders. "You're the third person in as many months that's requested a transfer out of here."  
She looked mildly startled. "I only heard about one other."  
"Another was an enlisted crewmember, in the sciences department." He stopped, and gave a sigh. "What's wrong with this ship, Lieutenant-excuse me, Commander?"  
"The crew," She replied immediately. He maintained eye contact, obviously waiting for her to continue. She did, promptly. "They're vicious and gossip-hungry. Not in a harmless way, like in some of the starships I've served on. They're out to harm everyone they can above them. And take the positions. My suggestion is, scatter them among other starships and get a different crew."  
Now it was his turn to look surprised. "That was quite vehement, L- Commander."  
"I've been in the center of it for about a month, sir."  
He nodded. "True."  
"The command staff's an exception to the rule, generally, but for the most part, the crew doesn't deserve a captain like you." He didn't really know what to say to something like that. "Do you think they deserve a captain like you?"  
That stumped her momentarily. "I don't know."  
"You have the charisma for command."  
"I'm a lieutenant, sir," she protested mildly. "I shouldn't have any type of command charisma yet."  
"Command ability doesn't come with rank. Just look at some of the admirals we have in Starfleet Command." That prompted a slight smile. "Command ability is a quality. You have it. And you showed it during that battle a month ago."  
"I destroyed a ship's worth of shuttles."  
"You saved a ship's worth of people."  
She remained silent. "I don't recall ever hearing about a ship named Challenger," he commented, changing the subject, but only after a long pause.  
"Maybe it's just been commissioned."  
"Maybe." He paused, then nodded slightly, and gave her back the disc. "We'll be within transporter range of Starbase 24 in ten days. You aren't relieved of duty."  
"Aye, sir." She left the room quietly, finding herself unable to get the captain's expression of defeat out of her mind. Such a good man, stuck with such a horrible crew. Still, she couldn't contain the smile as she boarded the turbolift.  
Well, she could.  
She just wanted the bridge crew on duty to be able to see it.  
When she got back to her quarters, she opened up the file on the Challenger.  
  
USS Challenger NCC-1420 N  
  
Hold on. N? Did that mean that A-M had come before this modern Challenger? She backtracked through the records, and found out that indeed it had. A - C had been destroyed in the first wars with the Romulans, while D and E had been taken off active duty because their electronics were outdated. F, G, H, and J were all destroyed-each within two years of the other one. I had disappeared before J had been commissioned, somewhere in the sector where modern Risa was located. After J was destroyed by a faulty self-destruct mechanism (luckily, no casualties), K had disappeared. Then L and M had both been destroyed, this time in wars with the Orions. There hadn't been a Challenger in almost fifty years.  
Starfleet had given her a cursed ship.  
She bit her lip, and continued reading the official records of Challenger NCC-1420 N.  
  
Function: Science/Survey Maximum Carrying Capacity: 75 (small amount of time only) Comfortable Carrying Capacity/Maximum Crew Complement: 24 Current Crew Complement: 13  
  
And if she were superstitious, she now would be sweating in her seat and considering committing suicide. Honestly, with thirteen crew members, and a ship that had been destroyed thirteen times before, anyone on the crew would be a little bit cautious about jumping aboard the Challenger.  
  
Commanding Officer: Lieutenant Commander Arthura Knapp  
  
Oh how she hated the name Arthura. Her great-great-grandfather had been named Arthur, and he was on the first Enterprise-the NX-01. Her parents had lovingly named her that, in hopes that she would join Starfleet. In elementary school it quickly was shortened to Art. In high school, someone mistook the name for being short for Artemis. Her name had been Artemis ever since, but she couldn't get Starfleet to change it from her birth name. Not for lack of trying.  
But Artemis had just seemed to fit her gold-blond hair and slim build. She was certainly pretty, by the definitions of most people.  
  
Executive Officer/Second in Command: Lieutenant Kevin Jameson Head of Engineering: Lieutenant Jesminda Longbottom  
Engineer(s): Ensign Scott Robinson Tactical/Demolitions: Lieutenant James Jones  
  
In spite of herself, she flinched. What kind of parent would name their child James Jones?  
  
Chief Medical Officer: Lieutenant Simon Brooks Helm Officer: Ensign Andrew Smith Head of Science: Lieutenant Reynaldo Davis  
Astrophysics: Ensign Andrew Smith **  
Botany: Ensign Beth Davidson  
Chemistry: Ensign Elijah Bell  
Ecology: Ensign Marie Curtis  
Geology: Lieutenant Reynaldo Davis **  
Meteorology: Ensign Marie Curtis **  
Physics: Ensign Winifred Biggs  
Zoology: Ensign James Taylor  
  
That was quite a science staff. And a grand total of three people had repeated duties. And-hey, that was funny. Not a single person in the whole group was non-human. She looked over it again. Same result. She had all types of human people, but no non-humans. Weird.  
She looked up the service record of her first officer, and got to work familiarizing herself with her crew. 


	2. Kevin

Chapter 2: Kevin  
  
Lieutenant Kevin Jameson (currently on leave from Starfleet), carefully clipped a dying stem off of one of his rose bushes.  
He hated roses.  
Really. They were pretty, and made a nice border around the garden if cultivated well enough, but he could hardly stand the hostile look to them. They had thorns. He grimaced slightly. What had possessed him to plant them in his garden?  
Plants were supposed to be beautiful and complex, while somehow at the same time being simple. He loved the simple joy of just making life grow, underneath his fingers, from the ground. He loved it so much he almost couldn't stand it.  
"Kevin!" came a call from the house.  
Even though it interrupted his gardening, he couldn't help but smile. It came from his fiancé, Claire. He looked up, and spotted her on the balcony above him. "Coming, love," he cried back up the stairs. He gave the dirt a pat, and put his shears away in a small tool shed. Ascending the stairs, he heard two quick and sharp, not to mention very loud, sounds. He called his fiancé's name. "Claire? Is anything wrong?"  
When he didn't hear a reply, he rushed up the stairs. Suddenly time seemed to slow down, his limbs moved sluggishly. Inside his mind a voice called, don't don't no you've done this before don't make it happen again no NO  
But then he was inside, and he saw it. Blood. Blood everywhere, spattered on the walls. Blood on the carpet. Blood.  
Blood covering Claire.  
"No!" came a cry torn from an anguished throat. Kevin turned, and tried to find out who to call, tried to dial emergency services.  
  
Kevin woke up screaming. Reflexively, he glanced at his hands. In his mind's eye, he covered them with blood, just like they had been.  
.that day.  
As if the weather detected his mood, a thunder strike sounded outside. Hell, maybe it did detect his mood. Maybe there was someone up there in Weather Control just trying to drive him insane.  
He shivered, and got up out of bed, padding quietly into the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom. He doused his face with water from the sink. Claire was gone. He had to get over it; he had to forget that day.  
.he could never forget that day.  
"DAMNIT!" he yelled. Clenching his hand into a fist, he slammed it into the wall, promptly adding a bruised knuckle to the rest of his problems.  
He turned and slumped against the wall. Tears were leaking from his eyes again, and he couldn't make them stop.  
Claire. Claire.  
.NO.  
He returned to bed, and tried to get back to his nightmarish sleep.  
  
Kevin woke up to the tune of an alarm from his computer. He answered it with voice only. "Who is it?" he asked without preamble.  
"It's Aaliyah, your psychologist," came a smooth female voice.  
"What do you want?" he asked, suddenly feeling very, very tired.  
"I've pronounced you fit for duty. All this inactivity is only killing the possible recovery you could make."  
He inhaled quietly. "Don't make me go back to the Trident."  
"No, Gleau wouldn't appreciate your mental state at the moment. You've been transferred, to another ship, called the Challenger." The voice paused, as if awaiting a reaction from him.  
"Not the ship that was destroyed thirteen different times before?"  
"It was only destroyed nine times," Aaliyah snapped. "The other four were either disappearance or de-commissioning. And I'm getting fed up with you seeing the negative in everything. It isn't helping you any on your road to recovery."  
He gave a dry chuckle. "I'm not on a road to recovery. It's more of a dead-end path. To nowhere."  
"Exactly my point, Kevin. I'm hoping Challenger will get you on the road. I'm not your therapist anymore-the chief medical officer will take over that duty from now on."  
"Damn, and I was just getting to know how to annoy you."  
"Kevin. I'm sorry I couldn't help me more."  
He was startled to feel wetness on his face. "I know."  
"You'll get your orders soon."  
He nodded, then realized that she couldn't see him. He terminated the connection. Better not say goodbye. Goodbye was the forbidden word.  
A bing sounded, and he read his orders, including transportation arrangements. He had a shuttle to catch in thirteen hours. From there he would go to Starbase 24.  
Shutting off the computer without warning, he pushed open the balcony doors. The wind ruffled his short but unkempt brown hair, and dried the tear tracks on his face. He looked down at his garden, and his vision blurred. Taking the stairs one by one down to the ground level, he knelt next to his favorite plants, the daisies. He touched a stem, and found that it was lying on the dirt. It's dirty brown color disgusted him, and he flung it away. Then he looked around more closely. All the daisies were just lying there. Not swaying in the breeze, just spicing up the garden with their beautiful white color, just lying there.  
Dead.  
And it wasn't just the daisies. All of the plants were dead or dying. Even the roses. He bit his lip.  
Even the roses. 


	3. Jess

Chapter 3: Jess  
  
Lieutenant Jesminda Longbottom (oh how she hated that last name) vaguely wondered why she'd ever been promoted to lieutenant. She was rubbing the tip of her finger gingerly.  
"This is the third time, Lieutenant."  
Jess gave a slight sigh. "I know, Doctor."  
"The third time in three years."  
Jess glanced up. "Really? Cause, y'know, I never would have guessed."  
"Sarcasm ill befits you," Dr. Tanner told her as she finished running the tissue regenerator. Jess started to get up. "Hold on, I have to check for nerve damage." She activated another device and started running it slowly across her body.  
"Doctor, I feel fine. Really, can I get back to duty?"  
"I'm afraid that's not going to happen." Tanner retreated, and set the tool back onto the table. "We're at Starbase 24."  
"Damn," she muttered. "I told Tyrell that it wouldn't happen again."  
"But it did," the doctor pointed out gently. She pressed a hypospray to Jess's arm. "You seem to have an overwhelming ability to get electrocuted, Lieutenant."  
"I swear it's not my fault!" Jess sounded a little agonized.  
"I realize that," Tanner replied. "The official reasons for the transfer are an inability to follow orders, and insubordination."  
"I only snubbed the captain because he snubbed me!"  
"He didn't 'snub' you. He said you had trouble following orders."  
"I had trouble following orders because I was being electrocuted!"  
Tanner sighed. "Nobody said the world was fair."  
"Yeah, cause if they did, it would definitely be a lie." Jess hopped off of the examining table. "I'm going to go get my stuff. I don't think I'll ever see you again."  
"Goodbye."  
"Yeah. Bye."  
She vanished through the sickbay doors and found herself in her quarters a few minutes later. Her former quarters. With a quiet sigh, Jess sat on her bed, and looked around. Sure, it was just a standard version of the same thing one found everywhere else on the ship. Bed, table, bathroom, replicator. But, somehow, it had seemed like home. Here she had finally been able to get over her tendency to be accident prone, but things had happened anyway. So she'd found a home, and now she had to leave.  
Life really wasn't fair.  
Picking up her bag, she walked out of the door. She didn't look back. 


	4. Scott

Chapter 4: Scott  
  
Scott sighed moodily as he stared at the door. He was waiting for his orders to come through, and then he'd get to work on his ship. Well, not technically his. After all, he wasn't the chief engineer. Just a secondary one. Unfortunately, he had nothing to do without them.  
He sighed again, the fifth time in as many minutes. He couldn't stand people making him wait. Honestly. Him.  
He turned to the computer. "Computer, what is taking so long?"  
"Specify request," the computer responded tonelessly.  
"Why is it taking so long for my orders to be ratified?" he asked impatiently.  
"Access to that information is denied." He perked up. Access? That was all? He could get access, no problem. After all, he did hack part of the Starfleet mainframe computer when he was in grade school.  
"Is it password-protected?" he asked.  
"Affirmative."  
"Put the password screen up for me." Grinning now, he sat down in front of the monitor. He gave it a specialized engineer's bypass, and got to the coding of the system. He set to work, and within five minutes, he had his access. "Computer, detail list of ships currently docked at Starbase 24."  
"Order by name, alphabetical; commanding officer, alphabetical; registration number, numerical; or-."  
"Name, alphabetical."  
"USS Alremsat, NCC-17427. USS Bell, NCC-42479. USS Birdcall, NCC- 57584. USS Challenger, NCC-1420 N."  
"Computer halt. Where is Challenger located?"  
That was when the door opened. A lieutenant walked in, and heard all of what the computer said.  
"The USS Challenger, NCC-1420 N is located in Berth C, Section Alpha 4."  
The lieutenant, a Vulcan, raised one eyebrow. "Getting into trouble already, Ensign? Computer deactivate." Before Scott could say anything in his own defense, the Vulcan turned. "You need to meet the admiral now."  
Scott nodded meekly, and followed the Vulcan out into the bustling corridors of Starbase 24. After ten minutes of walking, which made Scott wonder if there was a shorter route, they arrived at the door to the Admiral's office. The door opened in front of him, and he walked in apprehensively. It was a bit like being called to the principal's office. "Greetings, admiral," he said nervously.  
"You're getting off to a great start here, aren't you, Ensign?" The admiral seemed a little bit angry. Rightfully so, Scott thought vaguely. Scott had, after all, just hacked into his station's computer without official access. "Now, I called you up here to tell you that you were going to get a fresh start on this ship. But then again, maybe now.  
Scott managed to look guilty. With an effort.  
The admiral looked exasperated. "Go. Just go. To your ship, wherever. Get out of my office."  
Scott performed a strategic retreat, and then made off towards Berth C, Section Alpha 4. Once he got there, he caught sight of her. Challenger. She was beautiful. The lights in the station illuminated her just right. She was Rebel-class, or Preliminary-class, as the Starfleet Command-ies liked to put it. Pretty much, she was built to work on her own, without any outside assistance, and with only a small crew. He smiled.  
Then suddenly he jumped as a hand tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me. Ensign. Can I help you?" A crewman looked up at him.  
"Um, yes. I need to get over to Challenger. I'm assigned to her- second engineer."  
"Sure thing, sir. Crewman Madzi to Lieutenant. er. Jess."  
"Jess here," came a female voice.  
"Do this Ensign here a favor and beam him over to the ship," the crewman said, grinning. "That is, if you've fixed the transporters."  
"I have, in a manner of speaking. All right. I'll beam him over straightaway."  
A couple minutes later, Scott disappeared in a shower of sparkles. A transporter platform appeared in front of him. It seemed haphazardly thrown into the corner of the room.  
Come to think of it, everything seemed to be haphazardly thrown somewhere. Consoles were everywhere, so a decent-sized human had no room to walk. They only stopped for the door, and even then barely. The warp core was in the adjacent corner. Apparently Engineering and the Transporter Room were combined.  
There was the bottom of a person coming out from beneath the console directly in front of him. "Um.Hello?"  
"Yeah, I know you're here," Lieutenant Jesminda Longbottom said moodily. She crawled out and stood. "Lieutenant Jesminda Longbottom. And if you dare call me anything except for "lieutenant" or "Jess", I'll sic our new tactical officer on you."  
He blinked. "Right. I'll keep that in mind. Which to you prefer?"  
"Given the option, Jess."  
"I'm Ensign Scott Robinson," he said, realizing belatedly that her introducing herself was probably a clue for him to introduce himself as well.  
"Kay. Scott, what do you think is the problem with the transporter?"  
He panicked slightly. "There's a problem with the transporter? You could have told me that before I beamed over here!" He patted his face, as if making sure everything was still there.  
"Relax. The activation sequence on the console won't work. That's why I was under there." She pointed to her former position. "Find out what's wrong with it. Fix it. I'm busy with the communications array."  
"I think I hate factory-fresh ships," he muttered. He ran a hand along the transporter console.  
"Well, considering this ship, that's not an attitude you're going to let go of soon. Now get to work."  
Moodily, he went about trying to fix the transporter. 


	5. James 1

Chapter 5: James  
  
"Lieutenant. this is going to have to stop."  
Lieutenant James Jones sagged slightly. "Why?"  
Captain Hess looked startled. "It's unhealthy."  
"No it's not."  
"James, don't argue with the captain," his sister berated slightly.  
"Why not?"  
"Because." she fought for an explanation. The facts simply were that she was on James' side in this. "Because it's not. appropriate."  
"But how can you say it's not healthy?" James asked the captain.  
"What, being a p-." the chief medical officer started.  
"Don't say the word!" James's sister hissed.  
"What word?" James asked.  
"The fact is, Lieutenant, you are an exemplary security officer-."  
".-thank you-."  
"But there are some. problems."  
"Like what?"  
The captain was amazed that he couldn't tell. "Like this. py-."  
"Don't say the word!"  
"What word?"  
"He blows things up!!!"  
"Well, what's wrong with that?" James' sister asked.  
"Look at his face!" The CMO hissed.  
It did indeed look a little blackened. And his hair definitely looked a little worse for the wear.  
"And other crew members have been complaining of the noise," the captain pointed out.  
"Yes, like Ensign Varley. He was-." the CMO began.  
"I don't even want to know what Ensign Varley was doing." James' sister cut him off.  
There was a slight pause. "Good point."  
Another slight pause followed the first one. "I still don't see what the problem is," James pointed out.  
"Look, Lieutenant, you're a-."  
"I said not so say the word!" his sister cut in angrily.  
The captain started again. "Well, I've transferred you."  
"What?!" James and his sister chorused.  
"Why?" James asked.  
"Because he's a-."  
"He is not."  
"You don't even know what I'm about to say."  
"I do so."  
"What was I about to say, then?"  
"You were about to say-ooh, clever."  
"You see, Lieutenant, you're a great shot, and a wonderful fighter, and frankly. erm. very good at. er. blowing things up." The captain tried to maintain some semblance of order.  
"Thank you, sir."  
"But I'm transferring you."  
"You said that already."  
"Well, I'm restating it."  
"Starfleet needs a reason for a transfer request," James pointed out.  
"Well, we put a nice, clear reason there, but for some reason I can't say the word that I used."  
"Or any variant of it," his sister added.  
"Look, Ambassador," the captain said, addressing the sister. "The fact is, I can say the word and you can't stop me."  
"Captain, you need my ambassadorial services on this ship. Otherwise, you would be no where."  
"I'm sure we can get a new ambassador."  
"I can spread nasty rumors like nobody's business."  
"I'm sure there was an oxy-moron in there somewhere."  
"Anyway, this starship is dropping Lieutenant Jones off at the nearest starbase, where he will get transportation to Starbase 24. His new assignment is Challenger."  
"So you're just foisting him off on another captain."  
"Pretty much."  
"That's not very nice of you."  
"Especially considering that he's a-."  
"Don't say it, damnit!"  
"HE'S A PYROMANIAC, FOR GOD'S SAKE!" 


	6. Simon

Chapter 5: Simon  
  
Lieutenant Simon Bell expertly capped a hypospray and placed it into a cabinet. "Thank you for your blood donation, sir," he said respectfully to the civilian sitting in the chair in fromt of him. He didn't let his true emotions show; namely, that he was bloody tired of this planet.  
He had, of course, signed up for the Red Cross, or the interplanetary equivalent, but before this planet, he'd been cycled regularly. Ever since his shore leave, they'd been treating him oddly. Now he had a phone tap. And he knew perfectly well why.  
It didn't stop him from being bored.  
He didn't look up as another person sat in the chair in front of him. He just uncapped the hypospray and turned. And jumped three feet into the air.  
There, sitting in front of him, was his sister.  
"What are you doing here? Are you insane?!" he hissed.  
"Simon, just take my blood. Honestly. You're going to make people suspicious." She sat up a little straighter.  
He took a deep breath to calm down. "Why are you here?" he asked, slightly closer to his normal tone now.  
"I just wanted to say thank you," she told him quietly. "You got me out of prison, Simon."  
"Yes, Katie, and it wasn't exactly legal."  
"Do you think I care? Apart from the fact that now you're in trouble. And it's my fault."  
"I'm not in trouble," he denied. "And it's not your fault. It's that prosecutors." He pressed the hypospray to her arm and slowly began to fill it.  
"Right. So, what's this I'm hearing about a phone tap?" she asked, a slight smile ghosting around her lips.  
He looked mildly guilty, then realized he wasn't sure why, and stopped. "Well, they want to find you. All to desperately, little sister."  
"Anyway, I hear that you're being transferred to a starship from this dinky planetside duty."  
He straightened up. "First of all, this is a very important job, and I volunteered for it. Second of all. a starship? Why?"  
"Well, all I've heard is that it's the good ship Challenger."  
"Third of all, how exactly did you hear about this before I did?" He crossed his arms, capping the hypospray in the process.  
She looked mischievous. "I have my ways."  
He gave her a disapproving look. "You wouldn't happen to be guilty of that crime they charged you with, would you?"  
Her smile vanished. "You know I'm not, Simon."  
"We're done for now, if I'm going into a starship." He hugged her. "Goodbye."  
"Bye, Simon." She hugged him back, and gave him a little wave as she disappeared through the door. Just then an alarm beeped, and Simon glanced at the clock. Time for lunch break. He put the hypospray back into a container full of them, and picked it up to give to his supervisor.  
An unfamiliar man poked his head in. "Hello, Lieutenant Brooks?"  
Simon turned. "Yeah, that's me."  
He fully entered the room. "I'm Commander Carey. I've been picking up a couple members of the crew of the Challenger. I know that your transfer hasn't been received yet-." A slight bing from the computer station interrupted him. He glanced over. "Apparently it has. But, anyway, I have the first officer booked on a shuttle to Starbase 24-go ahead and read the orders if you want to."  
Simon pulled them up on his screen, and skimmed them. It was pretty basic-transferred, CMO, Challenger, Starbase 24. He turned back to Carey. "And?"  
"Well, we have to leave in an hour."  
"An hour?" Simon blinked.  
"Yes. Everything's been cleared. As soon as you pick up what you want to keep from your temporary quarters upstairs, we can leave."  
"An hour?" That was awfully fast.  
The Commander clapped him on the back. "Come on, son. Your crew is waiting." 


End file.
